Obliteration
by Encrypted Snowflake
Summary: Four years after the events that led to the Hunger Games, a particularly hopeful youth embarks on his journey. He plans to win-but with twenty-three other tributes, seven persistent mutts, six psychotic gamemakers, and only one pokemon in his team, it's going to be harder than he could have ever dreamt. Follow Ash and nine other tributes as they try to win the games.
1. Prologue

The Pokemon world. Where people and pokemon coexist in harmony. Filled with unbelievable adventures, unique pokemon, and interesting people, this earth was the closest thing to a mutual utopia ever reached. The pokemon weren't encaged. The people weren't terrorized, and everything seemed to be in perfect order.

**But that was four years ago.**

There was, in fact, a time as ideal as that one. However, the world soon discovered that the millions of pokemon, with all their different habits and niches, wore out their resources. Originally, the champions planned to solve this problem by splitting their world into twelve "districts", and everyplace else was vegetation for pokemon to thrive in. They later discovered this didn't work because of all the pokemon who wanted to live side by side with humans.

To fix the growing problem of too many pokemon and not enough food, it was decided that only the least needy and least troublesome pokemon would survive. They killed off all pokemon except for a select twenty-four species. The remaining pokemon were spread throughout the world and sent to live in peace with humans. However, almost immediately after, disaster struck.

The surviving, vengeful pokemon attacked and poisoned the land. The world's remainder of food soon shriveled to hardly anything.

To keep their now-chaotic civilization in order, the champions of the regions decided on a smart, clever way to keep their lives intact:they would hold games. The rules were simple:for one day every year, two trainers would be chosen to start their pokemon "journey"-in a deadly arena on live TV. They would bring nothing but their starter pokemon, whose type had to represent their district and their pokedex. This day was later known as reaping day.

**From then on, things got harder.**

If poor families wanted food, they'd have to take a tessara, or tesserae in plural, to get a limited supply of bread and oil. In exchange, that person would have their name entered in the reaping additional times for an equal amount of tesserae.

**This whole thing is their solution. The sick, twisted solution that they've come up with-and it's not changing anytime soon.**

However, some people-people like me and my family-are apoplectic. Outraged. Burning with anger at their decision. And we want to change it, want to _stop_ it. But like it or not, in a few days, we'll be having our first ever Hunger Games. On January 1st, of course, because nothing says "happy birthday" like seeing kids get reaped.

Not like it matters, though. I haven't taken one tessara yet. It's my annoyingly optimistic neighbor, Ash, who should be worried. After all, _he's _the only person I know who struggles to make end's meet. The rest of us-well, we're not an impoverish district. Although we aren't one of the Career districts, we _are _better off-which is why I have no sympathy for Ash. How lazy a worker do you have to be to fail at an easy job?

Our district is called the Electric District, but the Capitol refers to it as District five.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Ash Ketchum, Electric District **_

I was sitting on the steps of my porch when I first saw pikachu's injuries. He ran up to me, his body peppered with bruises and his face contorted in sadness. His small, half-hearted whimpers seemed berating, as if he was questioning why I hadn't prevented it. I wonder why I hadn't prevented it, too. My gloved hands clenched into fists. Sensing my abundant anger, pikachu led me to his assailant. My feet gladly followed him as he walked on the path leading to my friend's house. That day, I found out the truth about my friend. Today, it's happened again.

"Hey, pikachu! Over here!" Almost as soon as the words leave my mouth, pikachu-albeit beaten and bruised-runs over. "Oh, no! What happened to you?" I already know. Our irate neighbor, Lectra, attacked him for going near her house. I've seen her. She'll lug about five or six medium-sized rocks and hurl them at pikachu. They don't do much to him:in fact, any pokemon attack would have hurt him more, but I don't like her doing this to my pokemon.

Especially because this is the third time she's done this. pikachu only wanders to her house by accident, and I don't blame him. With the fact that all the houses in our district look about the same, there's almost no way to tell where our yard ends and where her yard begins. Unfortunately, she's convinced that pikachu always notices the small details that distinguish our yard from hers.

I let pikachu hop up on my shoulder and walk over to my porch. These days, Lectra just isn't the same. We used to be inseparable. Just four years ago, I was the sad, gloomy one, filled with anger and grief because I could hardly support the family. Every day I would return from my job at Tech Support, exhausted and overworked. Then I met pikachu, and with a friend always by my side, things just got...I dunno, better.

Around that time, Lectra changed from her energetic, blissful self to a despairingly sad person. Man, what happened since then? No, wait, I already know. The mass murder of nearly all pokemon has seriously affected her. After the incident, they gave all kids ages ten through eighteen a pokemon which type represented their district. The Capitol gave her a pikachu, too. I know she spent an incredible amount of time training it, because it's evolved now. Although, every time I go to her yard to rescue pikachu, Lectra's raichu looks sad, lonely. She doesn't seem too interested in bonding with it, so I don't expect that to change anytime soon.

Just like how I have my job fixing technology, Lectra has hers. Every mourning, I see her walking out of her house. She comes back later, and she doesn't bring her raichu with her. Unlike me, she works on weekends and lives alone, with her parents in the house next to hers.

This january first, before the reaping, i'm hoping to give her something special before I get reaped...and now my mind's back to that day. Possibly my last day in District Five, because, let's face it, with three tesserae for mom, dad and I, things aren't looking so good. I have to be the poorest boy in our district.

All I know is that i'll try my hardest...

and of course, never give up!

_**Victoria Fir, Grass District **_

I should feel safe and warm right now. After all, I am wearing my old pink coat.

But I can't seem to brush my worries away as I adjust my light pink fur scarf. The same one that I received from my uncle when I was four. When I was four...as in, before the genocide. I was told that the fur came from some old, ancient pokemon that had long died out when I was born. Recently, he said the pokemon's name was purrloin and they died the fur pink to make my scarf, but i'm not really sure if I can trust anything my uncle Steve says anymore. Well, why should I? He hasn't exactly been stable these past few 's understandable how everyone's nervous this first time around. We never imagined that the world could turn to this;something so cruel it gives me chills.

Speaking of chills, this coat is doing nothing to protect me from the cold breath of the earth. Seriously, it's like i'm not even wearing a coat. Underneath my maladroit pink coat, i'm wearing this year's reaping dress: a sleeveless dress that has fabric stopping at my knees. It has three-fourth length sleeves, and it's a bright, lemony yellow flecked with white polka dots. On my feet are white, lace flats.

_This year's_ reaping dress-that's assuming i'll be around next year. Geez, I haven't even _thought_ of getting reaped up until now, but one thought leads to another. If I was in the Games, how would I survive? Since i'm from District 7, the lumber district, I know nearly everything there is to know about trees. Climbing them. Cutting them. Getting sap from them. How to use their leaves for survival, etc, etc, etcetera.

I let my mind wander for what seems like forever until it gets too cold for me to bear. By the time I finish modeling my reaping outfit in front of the only full-length mirror we own, it's dark outside. My hand turns the knob on the garage/kitchen door and I immediately go to my room to get some well-needed sleep.

_**Lectra Jones, Electric District **_

I stare purposefully at the knife as my sweat-covered hand grips it's cold, rigid handle. I slowly bring it up to my chest, and then...

"Cut!"

The director yells. I take that as my cue to get off the stage and walk away. "Bring in the stunt double," He mumbles. Of course, because I can't kill myself. Seriously, they won't even let me pretend for the camera.

Apparently, i'm not stunt double material, so they had to get a normal daredevil with died hair and a fake accent to represent me. I've never been one for action, but i'd rather do her job for her than have everyone know just how low-budget this show is.

I'm almost too immersed in my thoughts to realize the the director's raichu has plopped itself in my lap. I absent-mindedly stroke it's ear, to which it responds with a yelp of happiness.

"You're going to have to get off of me now, okay, Thunder?"

Thunder reluctantly jumps off of me as I get called back to set. Thunder is always so sweet. Hey, at least _one _raichu in my life likes me. The one I have at home won't warm up to me, no matter what I do. How does Ash's pokemon like him so much? Maybe I should have took his advice...

Wait, I was just called back to the set? How is the scene over, already? It was so brief that I could have done it, why didn't they let me?

I'm not having this argument with myself again. Today is my last day here until reaping day, and I know I won't get reaped, but still, tomorrow will be a day forever known in history...

...and not because it's my birthday.

_**Tom Fury, Fire District**_

_Why do they have to have the first reaping day _this_ year?_

_Before they started the games, they had to set them up first. So, two years ago, they gave everyone between the ages of ten and sixteen a pokemon. They're starting the games this year because anyone they gave a pokemon to two years ago now meets the requirements for the games._

_Why couldn't they let me train a more interesting pokemon?_

_Because there were only twenty-four species in the world, they gave you the option of two fire types to train until you(possibly) got reaped. You chose cyndaquil._

_Why are they taking quilava away from me now? _

_Because they don't know if you're getting reaped. If you aren't, they'll give it back to you. But if you are, you'll never see it again-unless you win the games. Then they'll make sure to give it back to you._

_What are the games? What happens in them? _

_Ah, and that right there is the billion-dollar question. No one's really sure yet. Although, after what happened with the pokemon, it sure can't be anything good._

I finish my Q&A with my mind, then I walk outside to speak to my pokemon for what surely won't be the last time. To make sure no "peacekeepers" haul away my pokemon before the reaping, i've woken up extra early.

When I find quilava, I immediately tell him what's happening. He seems to understand the situation i'm in. I assure him that I won't get chosen. He believes me. That's over, then. Time to eat breakfast.

_**Ash Ketchum, Electric District **_

It's 6:30 a.m. Thirty minutes before the dreaded reaping. The present i've chosen to give Lectra is a necklace. Connected to the black string is the raichu-pikachu pokemon we designed when we were kids("What if there was a pokemon that looked like a mix between a raichu and a pikachu?"). A pokemon with pikachu's shape and colors, but with raichu's ears and tail. I added a bright red bow around it's neck on the design. Gosh, I hope she likes it.

I'm already dressed up for the reaping, so I start my long walk to the reaping stage. Since I don't want to interrupt her sleep, I'll give the present to her when she gets there.

_**Flare Madison, Fire District**_

I woke up just in time to see vulpix get taken away from me.

Which was fine with me, because whether I get reaped or not, I _will_ see her-and my family-again. No questions asked.

I'm the best trainer in this region. District Twelve wouldn't be known for it's strong, smart trainers if it weren't for me! Okay, maybe it still isn't. But I want to be chosen today, so I may just volunteer. I want my district to be just as rich as the Steel District after I win.

But I still haven't quite built up the courage to volunteer yet. That's why my sweaty palms are smoothing down my dress and the district escort has her hands in the bowl, on the prowl for names. She pulls a slip of paper with some girl's name written across it in red pen, but before she even has a chance to speak, my voice rings out around the stage.

"I volunteer!" I'm not quite as shocked as everyone else as I wave my parents goodbye and walk up to the stage. As I do, our escort, Tina Flare, comments: "Why, isn't this a lively morning! Let's see who we get next."

They call up some lean, kind-of muscular boy named Tom Fury next. Then, the reaping ends and were lead onto a train.

_**Lectra Jones, Electric District **_

Because of our location in Pokem(which is short for Pokemon, reminding us every day of The Incident), our district's reaping occurs last. Thank goodness for it, too, because I have quite a few goodbyes to say before it starts. By that, I mean to Ash's family. It's going to be hard on them, losing their only child.

I look for Ash in the crowd only to find him in front of me.

"Hey, Lectra!" He starts. "It's your birthday, and I thought i'd give this to you." He gives me a necklace with a "Raikachu" charm that seems all too nostalgic. All the good, blissful memories flow back the second I see it. So much for not caring about what happens to him.

"Thank you," I look up at him and, for the first time in a long time, smile. He just has that affect on people.

Our escort steps up to the stage in front of us and grasps the microphone.

"Good Mourning, ladies and gentlemen of District Five!" She greets us cheerfully, like she's not about to call people's names and throw them into the unknown. She blabbers for a good few minutes about things no one cares much about, occasionally telling an unfunny joke. Then, finally shouts, "Ladies first!" and proceeds to reach her glove-clad hand into the glass bowl before her and swirl it around.

She pulls out a name and begins to read it.

"Charm Jones?"

There is absolutely no one in this district with that name. Who is she referring to?

She looks at it, puzzled for a second, then announces again: "Oh, sorry! Charm is her middle name! I meant..Lectra Jones!"

I slowly and dramatically walk up on stage, grateful that three years of acting has trained me to hide my strongest emotions. A second later, she announces Ash's name. No surprise there. The reaping ends, we begin our walk to the trains that lead us to the justice building, and we're off.


End file.
